


A Butterfly's Heartbeat

by AconiteArt



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abduction, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Magic, Prison, Sex trafficking mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 10:22:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AconiteArt/pseuds/AconiteArt
Summary: Funny isn't it? being locked away for years only to be stolen away to another, a far more dangerous hiding place. yeah, really great, just what she was looking for. let's get this over with





	A Butterfly's Heartbeat

Logan stared blearily at the cracked concrete ceiling. She wouldn’t have known that she was on a mattress if not for the springs digging into her back. Two days of this, two long days locked in this box smaller than her college dorm room. No people, no stimuli, no escape. Every minute smears across the ceiling, gurgling and slow. 12 hours seemed like an eternity. Honestly, she would have welcomed the lumbering guards with their batons and brutality. Trapped in here, it was hard to even believe that other people existed. In the beginning, she had talked out loud, hummed, anything to fill the void with human sound. Anything to cover the buzz of old lights and her heartbeat. She’d fallen silent, not having the energy to keep going. There was no point and frankly, she didn’t care anymore. It had been a mistake throwing that punch. What was I supposed to do? Let that asshole grope me? A little voice argued. It was the one that kept saying to stand up for herself, be heard, get angry. She’d made the mistake of caving to it more than once, and every time she was worse off for it. There was no point fighting back in here. Even when she got out, prison time’s gonna guarantee that she won’t get a job. As she once again spiraled into thought, she heard something impossible. She could hear someone breathing.

She sat bolt upright, her lethargy forgotten. That was impossible, there couldn’t be anyone else in here, she would have heard the door open. Her heart stopped beating when she locked eyes with the intruder. It was herself. There was no one else it could be. The copy was perfect. Tall and scrawny build, tan skin, short hair once pink, now faded and growing in dark brown. Other Logan's jumpsuit had the same number. The face was the worst part. It unsettled some primal instinct buried deep within to see her own face on another’s body. There was only one detail that was wrong: the eyes. Logan had brown eyes, dark enough to be mistaken for black. Other Logan had blue eyes, brighter than any eyes she’d ever seen. They almost appeared to be glowing in the dim light. They stared at each other for a moment, Logan cautious, the imposter incredibly pleased with itself. The spell of confusion broke. It rushed at her, movements quick and jerky and far from human. Time seemed to slow as she stared into her own face. Other Logan had no pupils. All the blood left her face, and she crumpled onto the mattress. 

A gentle smell of baking cookies roused her from unconsciousness. She was laying on something incredibly soft and covered by a fluffy blanket. Whatever she was wearing was silky and fine. To be short, Logan was more comfortable than she’d been in years. Mind still heavy with sleep, she snuggled deeper into the warm nest. Why had she been so stressed? The past slammed her mind like a freight train, and she bolted upright. Solitary, Other Logan, passing out. Ripping off the blankets, she stumbled away from the now suffocating bed. Her eyes raced the little room, desperate for answers. The bed was large, comforter patterned with flowers. Fluffy pillows lined the end. Plush white carpet covered the floor. Stuffed animals were scattered around the room, posed for games that had never been finished. A particularly large teddy was leaned against the wall, watching the bed. Butterfly blankets lined the walls. The scent of baked goods seemed to lock the air in a stranglehold. A soft light infused the room, though she couldn’t see where it was coming from. She would have thought it was a little girl’s bedroom, had it not been for one thing.

There were no windows or doors. There were no seams where the butterfly blankets met the ceiling or floor. When she looked down, a new wave of confusion and fear coiled in her gut. Her skin had been scrubbed clean and moisturized, had to be with how smooth it had become. Tugging at her hair, she realized that the bleach-fried mess had been softened and smoothed. Her jumpsuit was gone, replaced with a pastel pink nightgown. Seems like whatever had kidnapped Logan wanted her to look good in captivity. That thought left a foul taste in her mouth. It was comfortable, just like everything else here, but it didn’t look right on her. She was a criminal, she broke into peoples homes and robbed them blind. She’d broken another inmate’s nose a few days ago. Geometric designs raced down her arm in dull brown ink. Whatever had taken Logan had bathed her, changed her clothes, and locked her in a child’s room. How had it gotten her out? Why didn’t security stop it? They get a kickback for every prisoner they hold, why would they just give her up? Then again, whatever had taken her had gotten into her cell, and those things are more secure than the white house. 

Nothing about this was right. The fact that she was clean and comfortable only made her anxiety worse. If they were just going to kill her, they wouldn’t have bothered with all this. Was this a sex thing? Human trafficking was her best guess. Still, anything could happen. No one knew where she was, and no one would bother looking for her. The prison would probably put out a warning about an escaped convict, but that was it. She’d seen some things during her sentence, but those butterfly hangings disturbed her more than the shanks, the riots, the batons. Those toys had been played with, how many others had been taken? Who’d taken off her clothes, rubbed her wet unconscious body, pulled on this goddamn nightgown? They could have done anything to her and she wouldn’t know. Something shifted in the edge of her vision.   
Logan whipped around, fists raised in a futile attempt to defend herself. The big teddy bear against the wall was getting to its plush paws. Her stomach dropped into a pit of ice as she saw the toy come to life. It had the same empty blue eyes as her captor. It rocked on its feet, giving her a little wave. She couldn’t move, stuck staring at another impossibility. Its mouth opened, and a rusty voice coiled around her ear. 

“Welcome to the butterfly room! I was in the area and found you all alone in that nasty little box bored out of your mind. I thought we’d have a little fun here and get to know each other! You'll be well-fed, safe, and comfortable for as long as you want. All you need to do is play with me.”

Her brain refused to comprehend the scene in front of her. Was this teddy bear propositioning her? The words fell from her mouth before she could think about it.

“I’m not doing anything with you” She bit her tongue the instant she realized what she said. Hot fury burned in those unseeing eyes. It clambered up onto the bed, now staring her dead in the face. It actually looked insulted that she wasn’t keen on “playing” with a toy that kidnapped her. She’d never seen a teddy bear snarl before. Wasn’t a good look. All of a sudden, the rage vanished like it had never been there. Its face split into a wide grin, though the eyes held a promise of retribution. Its voice became a candy-coated bed of nails, sickly sweetness hiding an iron core. 

“Oh, that’s too bad. You see I went to all this work to accommodate you. I thought you’d like it. Oh well. I guess you’d prefer something that matches your attitude.”

It stamped its little paw on the bed. The whole room began to shake. The floor suddenly sagged under her weight, sinking in around her. It was as though they were suspended above a deep pit with only the carpet for support. Logan fell to her knees, struggling to find purchase on the rippling floor. The teddy thing glared smugly from the stable bed, excitement gleaming in its empty eyes. The carpet groaned as it fought the strain, stretching to its limit. It giggled at the terror painting Logan’s face. Time stood still as a new sound joined in the choir of groans and giggles. She had just enough time to hear tearing fabric before she slipped into oblivion. The butterfly room fell away as she dropped into a void. Nothing existed down here, so sight, no sound, no smell. It was impossible to tell how far she had fallen. Perhaps she’d been plummeting for a few seconds, or she’d already fallen for years. Time decayed in the unnatural dark.


End file.
